


Oh, The Weather Outside Is Frightful

by flamingburningfandomtrash



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Cute, F/M, Fluff, Pre-Relationship, Slice of Life, Thunderstorms, crushing hard, its not really a relationship yet, trigger warning: panic attack
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-03
Updated: 2020-05-08
Packaged: 2021-03-01 23:02:10
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,539
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23985001
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flamingburningfandomtrash/pseuds/flamingburningfandomtrash
Summary: “You shouldn’t be- god,” you grip the doorframe when another crack of thunder rips over the house, and a bright flash follows it. The storm must be right over you. “You shouldn’t be scared. It can’t get into the house, and the worst that would happen is a tree gets knocked over or something.”“a tree?” Sans says, incredulous. “aren’t trees, y’know, rooted into the ground?”“Yeah.” He notices your voice sounds like you might throw up, so he stops talking.“DO YOU WANT US TO STAY WITH YOU FOR A LITTLE BIT? IT IS MUCH LESS SCARY DOING SOMETHING SCARY WITH OTHERS.”“I… I mean… I’d hate to bother you. It’s okay, I can-“ the loudest bang Sans has ever heard- like a gunshot- crashes directly overhead, and he watches your legs give out.
Relationships: Sans (Undertale)/Reader
Comments: 45
Kudos: 202





	1. Chapter 1

Two months.

Two looooooong months.

So much has happened in the past few months; monsters have come to the surface, they were approved to cities, they were assigned homes. You opened your home to monsters. You say that- but honestly you opened your home to friends.

When monsters first came to the surface your first worry is that they would be hostile, that they would want nothing to do with humans. But after seeing all the different happy interactions on TV, you realized you were wrong. It was a very different species, sure… but they were all different. All compassionate and unique and happy to be here at all. And though you’re sure this isn’t what your parents meant by “you need to make some friends”… you listed your house as open for two monsters. If anyone was interested. 

Monsters kept coming and looking at your house and shaking their heads- they explained it would be rude to take your residence alone. If you wanted two, you should be expecting a couple, or maybe some siblings. A few in particular mentioned “the skeleton brothers” would love a place available for two, and they would suggest it to them.

Which is how you ended up with two skeletons at your front door, one slightly shorter than you, and the other slightly taller, both with wheeled luggage and smiles. (Though to be fair, you can look back now and identify Sans’ smile as forced. It often is, you’ve only seen it loosen up once or twice.)

Papyrus was wonderful. Honestly, maybe not your kind of person. He was a really, really nice person, and he was passionate about everything he did: you didn’t even mind his louder voice. But he drained you- he still does- of energy. It’s just you being an introvert around an ecstatic extrovert, and you know it, and you work on being a good host and a good friend.

Sans was more your kinda guy. If he wanted anything to do with you, that is. It’s not that he was hostile, or even mean. He made puns, he sat in the same room with you, he asked you… basic questions about surface life… but he never asked about YOU. It feels like he wanted to be “acquaintances”; but not friends. A few times you managed to make it feel normal. Carrying out a conversation, getting an honest laugh out of him. You always feel accomplished when you make him smile for real. 

You’ve learned to differentiate the “skeleton smiles”- just their normal faces- from their “happy smiles”. Papyrus always has happy smiles, but Sans typically keeps on a skeleton smile. 

Two long months of learning how they work, of them learning how you work. 

And, today, it seems they’re going to have a lesson on thunderstorms, you think, speed walking towards the front door. You can already hear the low rumble of thunder in the distance and the pitter-patter of rain. You’ve always had a crippling fear of thunderstorms. You typically swaddle yourself in blankets and put your headphones on until your heart stops pounding. You don’t know why you’ve always been so scared of them- they’ve never hurt you! But it doesn’t stop you from crying generally every time. You hope Sans and Papyrus know how to handle this on their own… or at least that they’re not scared of it. Because you won’t be sticking around long enough to explain.

“WELCOME HOME HUMAN!”

“Hi, Papyrus,” you squeak, fumbling with your keys with shaking hands. Sans isn't around, so he's probably taking a nap. 

“IS SOMETHING WRONG? IS IT THAT ODD NOISE IN THE DISTANCE?” 

“Yeah,” you manage. “It’s a- it’s a thunderstorm. They can’t hurt you. I’m just, heh, kinda scared of them, so I’m gonna be in my room.”

“WOULD YOU LIKE ME TO HELP SOMEHOW? I’M SURE I CAN DROWN OUT THE NOISE WITH A DIFFERENT, LOUDER NOISE!”

“No, thanks. Appreciate it, though. Bye.”

You trip upstairs and make it to your room, just as the first roll of thunder crashes overhead. 

~~~~~~~

Sans glances up nervously as the loud noise booms outside again. He can feel it in his feet. Not to mention the pound of the rain on the roof, or the weird light outside. It flashes, lighting up the dark world outside every now and then, like a camera. He’s concerned the roof is gonna fall in, and you’re nowhere to be found. Papyrus is nervous, Sans can tell, but he does a good job of playing it off. After looking it up, they discovered a page explaining thunderstorms to monsters- so even though they both know it can’t hurt them, it’s still a scary thing. And, once again, they have no idea why you haven’t come downstairs yet.

“SHE CAME HOME SHAKING AND TOLD ME THAT IT WAS A THUNDERSTORM AND IT COULDN’T HURT US, BUT SHE WAS SCARED OF IT ANYWAY AND WENT UPSTAIRS. IT WAS CONCERNING! DO YOU THINK SHE’S ALRIGHT? SURELY THE NOISES MUST BE LOUDER UPSTAIRS! SHOULD WE CHECK ON HER?”

“if you wanna,” Sans mutters, a bit more concerned about the roof than about your jitters. 

“WELL… I THINK WE SHOULD! COME ON, BROTHER!”

(Papyrus does have good instincts when it comes to stuff like this, Sans has to admit to himself. Maybe it would be good to make sure you're alright.)

“HUMAN!! ARE YOU ALRIGHT?” Pap calls when another dramatic crash lands outside.

He doesn’t get a response, jumping slightly when another loud crash of thunder sounds overhead, almost immediately after the first.

“YOU DID SAY THESE NOISES CAN’T HURT YOU!! SO WHY ARE YOU SCARED? SHOULD WE BE SCARED?”

Sans hears your footsteps shuffling to the door- he fights the urge to wince when you open it. It’s almost comical how terrified you look, but it’s also fairly concerning. Pale and trembling, your hair all messed up, your grip unnaturally tight on the doorknob. He thinks your eyes look red and puffy- he hasn’t ever seen you cry before, but after seeing a fair amount of humans cry (it happens way more than you’d think it would) he can tell. 

“You shouldn’t be- god,” you grip the doorframe when another crack of thunder rips over the house, and a bright flash follows it. The storm must be right over you. “You shouldn’t be scared. It can’t get into the house, and the worst that would happen is a tree gets knocked over or something.”

“a tree?” Sans says, incredulous. “aren’t trees, y’know, rooted into the ground?”

“Yeah.” He notices your voice sounds like you might throw up, so he stops talking.

“DO YOU WANT US TO STAY WITH YOU FOR A LITTLE BIT? IT IS MUCH LESS SCARY DOING SOMETHING SCARY WITH OTHERS.”

“I… I mean… I’d hate to bother you. It’s okay, I can-“ the loudest bang Sans has ever heard- like a gunshot- crashes directly overhead, and he watches your legs give out. 

You…  
died?

“OHMYGOD!! WHAT HAPPENED TO HER? WHY DID SHE FALL ASLEEP??”

“hold on,” he crouches over you and tries taking your pulse. When he feels one- a bit too fast, but stable- he sighs. Okay, so human anatomy wasn’t a huge waste. “she just passed out. she’ll probably wake up in a few minutes.”

“WHY DID SHE DO THAT?!” Papyrus asks, sounding exasperated.

“she couldn’t help it. happens to humans when their heart rate gets jacked up. she was probably really scared.”

Saying that out loud makes him feel pretty bad for you, actually. You weren’t trying to be dramatic, you were just really, really scared. He’s felt that way before. You’re just really terrible at hiding it. 

“should we move her to her room?”

“HOW ABOUT DOWN TO THE COUCH? THE NOISES ARE QUIETER AND WE CAN KEEP HER COMPANY!”

“sounds good. uh. i’ll just.” he attempts to pick you up, but you’re dead weight. He finally just sighs and uses blue magic to help him get you off the ground. Papyrus has to laugh at him a little as they head downstairs.

“YOU NEED TO WORK OUT MORE, BROTHER.”

“tone my muscles?”

“OH MY GOD, YOU KNOW WHAT I MEANT.”

“can’t i just like, chug milk?”

“YOU COULD, BUT YOU DON’T.”

“got me there.”

Sans glances down when you groan and open your eyes. Luckily, he just made it to the couch, so he doesn’t have to talk to you while carrying you. For whatever reason, that makes him feel weird. His soul feels like it’s bending over backwards when he thinks about it. It’s a hard to classify emotion, so he just brushes it off. 

“What- ugh- what happened?”

Before Sans can answer, another roll of thunder sounds, followed by an unusually long flash of lightning.

The lights go out. 

“you passed out, only for a minute… and, uh, i’d love to tell ya what just happened, but i have no idea. it feels like a bad sign, though. what happened to the lights?”

“We lost power… oh my god…”

“HUMAN, ARE YOU OKAY?”

“Yeah, I’m fine, I just need a minute…”

You almost seem to vanish inside yourself. You don’t blink, don’t breathe, knuckles white from gripping the couch cushions. And- he isn’t stupid. Sans can identify a panic attack when he sees one. For some reason, it makes yet another weird emotion pop up in him. This one, though, he can identify. Empathy. He knows what this is like, and he feels genuinely bad for you. He wants to help- if he can. So he simply sits beside you, takes your hand off the couch with a small tug, and starts drawing a square on the back of it, over and over, over the same places. He notices your eyes snap down to look at the strange feeling in your hand after a minute. A minute later, you seem more present than before.

“deep breath in when it goes up, out when it goes sideways,” he instructs. 

When he draws a line on the square to the top of your hand, you breathe in. When he goes to the left, you breathe out. Down, in. Right, out. Up, in. Left, out. All the way until he’s gone around ten times. 

“how ya doin’?” he asks, quietly.

“Good. Thanks. Nobody’s ever shown me that one,” you admit, looking at him as best you can in the dark. You get a questioning look on your face, and Sans realizes his face is glowing blue. His soul twists again, and he drops your hand.

“heh, uh. no problem. helps me.”

“Me too, apparently,” you say, taking another deep breath and staring into the darkness. 

All you can see are Sans’ eyelights, as they’re the only thing illuminating the room at the moment. Like faulty flashlights, or white candles, or fireflies- or something. 

“Um, guys?” 

You and Sans both look over, slightly concerned, when Papyrus talks in his inside voice. It sounds scared.

“I am not terribly scared of loud noises, as The Great Papyrus is very brave, but I am not fond of the dark, and would greatly appreciate it if we could find a candle or something?”

“ah, geez, bro, sorry.”

“I don’t need it!! Because I am not scared!! But if we are not getting candles a hug would be nice because I can’t see anyone-“

“nah, not what i meant. i’ll find somethin’, i coulda sworn you have a flashlight in the puzzle kit. be right back.”

Suddenly, his eyelights disappear, and the weight next to you on the couch vanishes, too. You find that a bit odd, admittedly, but he’s done his little vanishing act once or twice before. He returns in a matter of seconds, bearing a flashlight in one hand and a couple of batteries in the other. You hear a bit of clicking, and then the old flashlight flickers to life. 

“THANK GOODNESS. NOT- THAT I WAS SCARED! I WASN’T! I JUST LIKE… FLASHLIGHTS!”

“Yeah,” you say, sighing. Another roll of thunder drums outside, but for once you find yourself feeling oddly at peace with it now. Maybe it’s having someone else with you. 

“see, i was scared. that’s why i got the flashlight. you’re the brave one here, pap.”

“OF COURSE I AM! AND I WILL PROTECT THE BOTH OF YOU FROM WHATEVER CREEPY THING COULD BE HIDING… IN THE DARK… RIGHT NOW!”

“You guys wanna try something? I feel weird offering, but it helped me when I was a kid.”

They both look to you, curious.

“My parents called them bad-away piles. When everyone made like, a big group hug on the couch, it was supposed to keep the bad stuff away. They did it for me when I couldn’t sleep, or uh- the power went out, or, or- thunderstorms.”

“I LIKE THAT IDEA!! SANS?”

“why not?”

Papyrus hugs you first, and you find yourself situated in between his crossed legs as he hugs you from behind. Sans sort of slumps into it, one arm around Papyrus shoulders and the other around you.

“we doin’ it right?”

“Yeah.”

A long, peaceful silence ensues. You almost feel yourself starting to fall asleep before Papyrus speaks.

“HOW LONG HAVE YOU BEEN AFRAID OF THUNDERSTORMS?”

“I… don’t know. I guess it’s just the nightmares. I have this recurring nightmare that the thunderstorms knock over everything. Like trees and buildings and houses. That happened in a tornado in Kansas once, that’s where I used to live. I guess that fear kind of carried over. I should really be over it by now.”

“nah, yer good,” Sans says, sounding almost- dare I say?- caring. “recurring ones’er the worst. anyway, uh- what’s a tornado?”

“It’s this big swirling column of air. Imagine just sticking a giant egg beater into a town and dragging it around. Tears the roofs off of houses, rains a lot. I once saw this super tall wall, all stone, and you could see the exact place where the tornado went over it, because it was just torn to pieces.”

It gets really quiet after you say that, and you cough.

“Luckily, we don’t live in a place where anything like that is common. Plenty of natural disasters exist, but most of them can’t get to us here.”

“. . .there are MORE?”

“Eh, you have to pay for the sky and the ocean and the forest with mother nature giving you hell every now and then.”

“Like what?” Papyrus asks.

“Guys, I’m not trying to scare you, it’s super rare for any of these to happen, and you guys should seriously see the ocean sometime without being scared out of your skin.”

“buddy. you did not seriously just say that.”

Papyrus groans, and it slowly dawns on you that you made a pun. Sans holds out a hand, and you high five it, curiously. He’s never done that before.

“but seriously. it’s all good.”

“Uh… okay. Well, forest fires. Dumb people leave matches or things outside, or forget to douse their campfires, and it catches huge areas of land on fire for days on end. Sometimes months, if nobody can stop it.”

“THAT SOUNDS LIKE HOTLAND!! I didn’t love it there.”

“wasn’t half bad if you could get around metta and heats flamesman.”

“METTATON IS WONDERFUL!!”

You giggle, which brings both of their attention back on you. You could have sworn you saw a faint blue light on Sans’ face, but you couldn’t tell where it was coming from.

“KEEP GOING, HUMAN!!”

“Um. Tsunamis! Weird spelled word, really scary thing. The ocean draws back from the shore and, almost seems to run away. And then there are these HUGE waves. Like something out of a movie. And they land on towns and wash everything away, and flood houses, all this. And then when the waves draw back out, they take tons of stuff with them into the ocean. But we’re landlocked, so we’re not at a risk for that. And it doesn’t happen in lakes.”

“that sounds like it sucks.”

“Yeah. Luckily, you can tell when it happens hours before it happens and get lots of people to safety.”

“THAT IS VERY CONSIDERATE OF THE OCEAN.”

“Heheh- yeah, you could say it that way.”

You keep going on and on, from earthquakes to acid rain, until you start to fall asleep. Sans keeps Papyrus from waking you up, and instead slips out of the hug to pick you up with a little bit of blue magic. 

“i’m gonna bring her back upstairs so she can get some sleep. can ya keep the flashlight safe for me?”

“I can!” he whisper-shouts. “But may I accompany you? To um, protect you?”

“oh- yeah, shoot, didn’t even think’a that. c’mon,” Sans nods, tilting his head toward the stairs.

He carries you upstairs, accompanied by Papyrus, who is swiveling the flashlight at every creak of the floorboards and faint roll of thunder. Sans is again feeling the odd soul bending feeling as he holds you. He finds, for whatever odd reason, he trusts you more than he did at the beginning of the night. You did essentially nothing to prove it. You were kind to Papyrus, and you passed out, and you talked for a lot longer than he’s heard you talk before. Maybe it was that hugging-initiates-trust feeling he read about. Still, looking at your face feels like a hand warming packet is set right above his soul.

He pushes the door to your room open with his foot and lowers you into your bed as gently as possible, drawing the blankets over you. You reach up, curious as to where you are, and end up taking his hand. He stares at the connection for a long minute, unsure whether or not to break it, before finally gently lowering your hand under the blankets and letting go. 

It’s like you’re his sister… but it’s different. His friend, but different. A bit of a jump from this morning, when he was concerned you were considering killing him and Paps. You’re special, he just doesn’t know how yet. He simply rubs your shoulder for a moment, lost in thought, before turning back to Papyrus. 

“yep.”

“Yep what?” he whispers.

“uh. dunno. you wanna go to bed?”

“Ssssssuuuuuurrrreeee… does someone have a crush??”

Sans feels his face warm up again, which was a curious feeling.

“You do!! I mean-“ he edges towards the door when you twitch in your sleep from his exclamation. “You do.”

“huh. weird.”

“You- you aren’t going to deny it?”

“i’unno if i even know what it is. so, uh, no.”

Sans shuts the door behind him softly, glancing back for one more look at your sleeping self under the covers. Papyrus drags him to their shared room as SOON as he hears the click, plopping him on the bottom bunk of the bunk bed and sitting on the floor.

“I want you to tell me EVERYTHING.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which our hero is terrible with emotions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Does he confess.........?

Sans glances up from his bowl of cereal when you slump downstairs in a hoodie and sweatpants, rubbing your eyes and trying to pat down your bedhead.

“hey, that’s my move,” Sans says, sounding mock offended.

You glance up, a little surprised to hear him greet you. It’s been almost a week since the thunderstorm incident, but you’re still getting used to him being so open and easygoing around you. It’s really nice. And you have no idea what you did to make it happen.

“What, waking up at eleven? It’s the weekend, cut me a little slack.”

“heheheh. maybe, if i feel like it. don’t right now, though.”

He gets the soul-twist again when you smile at him, nudging his shoulder with your elbow as you pass. 

“What cereal did’ja pick out, anyway… I could stand to have a bowl.”

“lucky charms.”

“Not again,” you grumble, looking in the box to find all the marshmallow bits gone. Sans only has a few bad-roommate quirks. He doesn’t walk around in his underwear, sure- you’re not even sure if he wears any- but he does pull all the marshmallows out of the lucky charms and eat them. You can’t even steal any, because half the time he douses them in ketchup. Ew.

You finally resign yourself to eating the leftovers, and pour yourself a bowl and sit across from him.

“It’s just gonna be one of those days, isn’t it?”

“i dunno about you, but i think today’s been going great so far. want some?”

He offers you a spoonful of- ketchupless!- marshmallows. You feel like a baby being spoonfed, but you aren’t going to pass up free sugar. He watches you make eye contact with him as you eat the whole spoonful in one bite. 

For whatever reason, that makes his face warm up again. Sometimes he feels like it happens at the most random of times. 

“so, uh,” he says, once you’re finished chewing on your bite and he’s put his spoon in his bowl- unsure if it would be some sort of indirect kiss to shove it in his mouth the second after you shoved it in yours. “i was wonderin’. after, uh, last week.”

You cock your head to one side like a curious dog, prompting him to say more.

“the thunderstorm.”

“Oh! Yeah, what about it?”

“i guess, i just… you could call it a moment of clarity.”

“Yeah?”

“i’ve been kinda a shitty roomie. roomie slash friend? i been tryin’ to fix it, but, uh, i wanted to apologize. kinda realized, uh, after seein’ you like that, you were a… person? god, that sounds terrible,” he chuckles.

“No, like, not just another human. I get it.”

“yeah, like that. doesn’t make it much better, but, uh. i was just wonderin’ if there was somethin’ we could do. together. uh. you and papyrus have done stuff once or twice, and i was thinkin’ that would be a good start. whaddya think?"

“Sounds good. Sounds like you’re asking me out,” you smirk. “But it sounds good. What would you want to do?”

“that’s what i was gonna ask about. i have no idea. my go-to is typically food, honestly.”

“Cool, that sounds good. You have a place in mind?”

“oh- yeah- ever heard’a grillby’s?”

“The “grease trap” Papyrus is always yelling about?”

“that’s the one. man, you’ve never had a burger ’til you’ve eaten at grillbz.”

“I’m vegetarian.”

He gives you a look, and you bust out laughing.

“Kidding! I just like seeing the reactions. Heh, you were like,” you do a rough imitation of his voice- “gross.”

He pauses, then starts to laugh, too.

“is that what i SOUND like?”

“I can’t do low voices! What do I sound like?” 

“What The Frick-Frack Snick-Snack Happened To My Marshmallows?” he says, in your naturally higher-pitched voice, laughing.

“I only ever said frick-frack snick-snack one time!”

“and it is still the funniest thing ever.”

You pause, taking the time to examine his smile. It’s a real one.

“what? what’s that look for?”

“You have dimples. They’re cute.” The look he gives you following that comment is flustered, so you snigger and explain. “I always wanted ‘em, because all my friends had ‘em, but I didn’t get any. But I’ve gotta say, you have the best smile I’ve ever seen.”

“i’m a skeleton. i can’t help it.”

“No, no, you can! You have a real one. You’re using the real one. It’s when you’re, like, actually happy.”

That seems to startle him a little. His grin slips a notch, and he rubs a place over his chest, a curious look on his face. After a moment, though, it hitches even wider than before and he looks back up at you. 

“i’m happy.”

“Yyyyyeaaahhh? I thought?”

“that’s… new.”

“Are you okay?”

“holy shit.”

“Sans?”

“y’know what? grillbz can go without me for a day. i have an idea. you wanna come somewhere cool tonight? like, around eleven.”

You feel a little tint of pink rise in your cheeks.

“Where, exactly? Not to be rude, but if it involves, uh, your room or something then I’m kinda not interested.”

“what? oh. oh, no, not that. no, i uh- i don’t even- i can’t- no.”

“Oh, good. Sounds fun, whatever it is.”

“glad.”

“Then it’s a date.”

He grins again and pushes you the rest of his marshmallows. You take them eagerly. This seems like a good start.

~~~~~~~~

You look at the clock on your nightstand as it beeps at you. You took a nap, set an alarm for eleven, and decided that you had to be prepared for whatever Sans was taking you to. You picked out a fairly nice shirt and jeans: casual, but could also cut it in some kind of nice restaurant or dance. And some flats.

So- albeit groggily- you shimmy out of bed, shake out your jitters, and head downstairs. Waiting at the dining room table, sure enough, is Sans the skeleton. He… hasn’t changed at all.

“aw, gettin’ all dressed up for little old me?” he snickers, taking in your cute outfit and trying to laugh off the blush on his cheekbones.

“Shut up, you didn’t tell me where you were taking me, I wanted to be prepared.”

“well, the jeans are probably a good idea. it’s gonna be cold.”

“Should I grab a coat?”

“if you want.”

You squint behind you at the flight of stairs and finally just shake your head.

“Nevermind. It’s too far.”

“’s fine. alright, you ready for this?”

He extends an arm, which you take, a little confused.

“hold your breath.”

“Why would I-“

And then you feel like you’re falling a million miles an hour, head over heels, until you hit the ground hard and crumple like a soda can to the floor.

“heh. you get used to the landing,” he says, brightly, helping you to your feet.

“Where… where are we?” you ask, looking around. It looks like you’re in the woods, in the middle of nowhere, no less. “How did we get here? We- how are we gonna get home? It’s so late, what if there are animals?”

“animals don’t mess with you if you don’t mess with them. i’ve done this before, it’s fine.”

“But you don’t smell like a walking meal to a grizzly bear.”

“dare i say… a snack?”

You look at him for a long moment, trying to catch his meaning, before seeing the wide, shit-eating grin on his face. You scoff in indignation and push him on the arm. He laughs out loud and shrugs, putting his hands up in a “you win”.

“alright, alright, i’m kidding! but, seriously, you have a point. i probably don’t smell. we oughta get outta here.”

He offers his arm again. This time, not only do you hold your breath, but you shut your eyes and tense up for good measure. You don’t feel the falling feeling, though. This time you just see a flash of light. You crack open your eye- Sans has his phone out, and he took a picture of you.

“oh- yeah, sorry, couldn’t resist. you looked like you swallowed a lemon.”

He shows you the photo, and you have to admit that he wasn’t too far off with his description of it. For a moment, he thinks you’re going to be angry, but then you look up and nod, almost respectfully.

“I deserved that. Send it to me?”

“i don’t have your number.”

“Well, geez, we haven’t even gone on a date.”

“should i buy you dinner first?”

Your deadpan expressions break and you snort, taking his phone and punching in your number before returning it to him.

“ok, seriously though.”

You close your eyes, relax a bit, and fall. This time isn’t nearly as jarring as the first, and you at least manage to stay on your feet. This time when you open your eyes, there’s nothing but grass and hills- in the distance you can see a mountain range lined by trees.

“nice, right? quiet.”

“Yeah… you think it’s gonna rain?”

Light, drifting clouds cross over the moon- they’re moving fast. Someone once told you that wind means rain. You’re positive they were wrong: but it always makes you think of it anyway. Something about the phrase stuck in your head. Wind means rain. 

“nope. but hey- look.”

You look at him, and he simply points upward. A little spot of clouds shifts away…

and your mind goes blank except for the stars.

You don’t know how you didn’t see them before. There are millions, billions of shining pinpricks of light. So, so many stars. You feel your jaw drop, and you stagger backwards a little to get a better look, as if trying to get further away will let you see them all at once. 

You don’t remember much of the sitting down, or where the blanket you’re now sitting on came from… but you do remember the view. Clouds occasionally blocked the sky, and then you just shot glances at Sans out of the corners of your eyes, but other than that it was just full on stargazing. Little did you know that that shooting little glances at you was basically all Sans was doing. While he stretched back and laid out on the picnic blanket: which he sneakily acquired from home while you were distracted- you were sat up on your elbows taking it all in.

So he just took his time to take you in.

And this time, his soul did something new. It didn’t twist or stretch or jump. It fluttered. It felt lighter, better. He wanted to feel it again, feel his soul seem to accept you. He wouldn’t have much trouble there, though. You sat up and turned to him, then basically tackle hugged him. There was a heart-stopping moment where he thought you were attacking him, but when you yanked him into a hug he calmed down a little.

“You are the actual best best friend I’ve ever had,” you say, slightly muffled in his jacket.

“charmed,” he replies, trying to get into a less awkward position. His arms are straight up, and you’re hugging around his midriff. He has no idea where he ought to move them.

“Dude-“ you jump to your feet, leaving him on the blanket, and look straight up at the sky. Then back down at him. “Are you seeing this? This is a helluva lot more than just “charmed”. This is frick-frack snick-snackin’ magical.” 

He grins at you, mostly to laugh at the running joke… but, also just because you look so excited. Making you excited feels really nice, actually. He pats the blanket beside him, and you trot over and sit.

“no, try laying down. it hits different.”

You obey. After a second, you feel it. “Woah. Yeah, it does, doesn’t it?”

“yep… i used to come out here almost twice a day before we moved in with you. mostly because i didn’t want you to catch me out of the house one night and be suspicious i was doing something shady. me and pap need somewhere to live, so, i gotta keep your trust. anyway: it just helps me think about stuff.”

“I would have believed you if you explained…”

“i like doin’ it this way better anyway.”

“Same.”

You take in the view for a minute, then look over at Sans again. His head is tilted towards you already, like he was just looking at you this whole time. You find that you don’t mind. 

“What do you think about?”

“eh, nothing important.”

“C’mon… what is it?”

“trust me when i say there is no point in telling you.”

“Why?”

“you’d just forget.”

“I have a great memory, thank you very much.”

His eyelights look almost… sad, for a moment, and you watch his grin slip.

“yeah. i know. it’s just scary shit. don’t wanna talk about it.”

“Oh. Okay.”

You scoot a little closer on the blanket- he doesn’t pull away, but instead chooses to lean his skull on your shoulder a little. And then a big, wet drop lands right on your face.

“Uh. We should go.”

“why?” he asks- you think he sounds slightly anxious, like getting in your airspace was a mistake.

“It’s raining.”

You hold out a hand- a few patters of rain land on it, followed by the top of your head, the tops of your legs. Sans starts experiencing the same thing, but he doesn’t seem to like or trust it. He pulls his legs under himself, flips up the hood of his hoodie, zips everything closed, and shoves his hands in his pockets.

“why?”

“Guess it just wanted to.”

“are you okay?”

“What? Why?”

“i thought you said rain burns.”

You look at him, a little confused, then realize what he’s thinking of.

“Oh! No, this isn’t acid rain. It’s just water. It’s cold, I’m probably going to be sick tomorrow if we stay out here much longer, but it’s fine. C’mere.”

You extend a hand. He seems to debate trusting you for a moment, then pulls his hand out and takes yours. A drop lands on it, and he watches it drip over his metacarpals for a minute before turning his palm up. Assured that it’s just like Waterfall rain, he pulls his hood back. You squeak when a drop lands in his eyesocket, but he just blinks and it’s fine after that. 

It starts coming down harder, and you sit up and hold your arms out. Sure, it’s plastering your clothes to you, and your hair is going to get tangled beyond belief, but it feels so refreshing. Sans sits up next to you, copying your pose. 

“If you want the full effect, you gotta take your hoodie off,” you say, loud enough to be heard over the rain.

He does. You want to stare at him so badly. He looks so much smaller without it on. Vulnerable and strong all at once. Sturdy, and yet looking like a gust of wind could knock him over. You have to laugh. You’re probably getting a crush, but you don’t even know him that well. You just sort of shrug it off for now. What will come will come, in your opinion. 

“you’re shaking,” Sans points out, over the steadily-growing roar of the rain. “you wanna head home?”

“I can stay out for a few more minutes.”

“aren’t you gonna get sick?”

“Who cares?”

He shrugs, sort of awkwardly. “me?”

You laugh- “You’d be the first! C’mon, one more minute.”

“you say so,” he shrugs.

He surveys the field, wondering if any animals would want to be out here in this weather. All he can see are a few deer on the tree line. Deer are cool, he read about them once. Apparently humans hunt them. He may find that kinda creepy, along with all of the other weird eating habits humans have: everything from eating rabbits to drinking goat’s milk- but it’s not for him to judge. When he explained what a “water sausage” was, you looked like you were going to puke. Retribution for the vegetarian joke, he supposes. 

When Sans can start to hear your voice shudder with your body, he finally decides it would be best to pack up shop. He stands, pulling you up with him. You try to pick up the muddy blanket, but you both silently decide that it’s no use in bringing it, it would track all through the house. So he just gives you his arm and shortcuts home.

~~~~~~~

You wake up slightly oddly situated in bed. You squint at the gross feeling of being damp and sticky. You smell mud and rainwater, and the tangy smell of wet blankets- speaking of which, there are a lot of blankets. You’re grateful; despite the disgusting feeling, you’re cozy and warm.

It takes a moment to recall what happened last night. The stars, the field, the blanket, the rain. Sans. You stick your arm out and fumble for your nightstand- you should probably text him and tell him you’re awake- when your hand smacks into something firm. At first you think it’s your lamp until it moves and pats the top of your hand awkwardly.

“hey, i know i probably gotcha sick, but hitting is a little much.”

You look over: apparently, you hit Sans in the arm. 

“Oh, I’m sorry- wow, I sound terrible,” you laugh. Your voice is nasally and croaky. You probably have some sort of head cold.

“yeah… damn, i’m so sorry, i didn’t mean to get you sick. staying in the rain was probably a bad idea.” 

“I don’t regret it for a second,” you say, sniffing. “I had fun.”

“well, you got yourself a little servant today,” he chuckles. “neither of us have work, and i owe ya one. get some rest and i can handle, uh, the rest.”

You look at him appraisingly while he shifts under your gaze.

“Smooth.”

“thanks.”

You snort unflatteringly: his face breaks into a smile. 

“so… whaddya need?”

“A nice long shower to fix my sinuses, I’m gonna get a headache at this rate,” you say, getting to your feet. “And unless I’ve completely misjudged you, I’m going to go so far as to say that isn’t an activity you’d like to join me in doing.” 

“nope.”

“Glad. You take a nap-“ you noogie him a little as you pass by, as if to ruffle hair he doesn’t have- “And I’ll be back in a minute.”

He looks at your bed, slightly confused as to whether or not you meant in here. It feels oddly invasive to be taking a nap in your bed, but he finally just shrugs and decides if you said so, he doesn’t care what his instincts say. He plops down and shrugs some blankets over himself. It… smells like you.

He breathes in the deep scent of the rain and the mud and your shampoo on the pillow. Oh, yeah. That definitely smells like you.

And his soul is fluttering again as the scent launches him into a hundred thousand ‘what if’ scenarios. What if he told you how he felt? And what if you said yes? And imagine, years from now, him waking up to this sweet smell every morning, you lodged in front of him like a pillow… goofing off and talking to you like he did in that field for the rest of forever? Wouldn’t that be nice? Just… relief. Imagine relief. Imagine a friend he can come to with everything. Imagine. What if?

He hugs the pillow close, burying his face in it and imagining that it was your hair. God, what he wouldn’t give right now for that to be true. The weird soul flutter, the weird desires, come at the strangest of times. Right when he never expects them. He thinks he’d just want to be your friend, but in moments like this when he imagines pulling you close to him and just, loving you… all of that seems to disappear.

And it slowly dawns on him.

This. 

This is love.

This is him falling head-over-heels, entirely, completely, whole-heartedly in love with you. 

For some reason, that makes him feel happier than anything has yet to make him feel.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...NOPE BUT MAYBE HE WILL ONE DAY

**Author's Note:**

> Papyrus: YOU READY TO GET YOUR MATCH M A D E ???????  
> Sans: can i sleep


End file.
